


One of the Shitty Mornings

by Kojont



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sibling Incest, and oh yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:24:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1739546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kojont/pseuds/Kojont
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set before the show. The Dixons piss off the camp. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of the Shitty Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> I've been watching too many Michael Rooker interviews to not have a clue about the accent they're speaking in. Did my best with the little I know. Sorry about that.

Something nudged Daryl's foot. He grunted, pulled his legs up to make more room for Merle and tried to continue sleeping. That something pushed against his knee next and Daryl growled.

“Stop kickin', Merle.”

There was no answer. Instead there was hard and clear pressure against Daryl's crotch. For a second Daryl just let his legs open, as he snuggled into a better position.

“Jesus, not now...” he mumbled, although he wasn't about to protest too much. If Merle decided to blow him, hell, he could go for it. Daryl took out his hand, his eyes still closed and reached for Merle's head.

Instead of finding Merle's bristly hair, Daryl's fingers went straight through the skull into wet and squishy brains.

It was a wake-up like the world had never seen. Daryl kicked and hit, tried to reach for his crossbow and get the hell away from the biter all at the same time and inside the very small tent. The thought of dying gripped his insides hard and made him claw his way out of the tent. The fresh air felt like heaven on his face.

Daryl scampered to his feet, took a heavy branch from the ground and lifted it above his head, ready to fight. Only then his brains registered the high pitched and howling laughter from inside the nearly collapsed tent. Merle crawled out too, holding a severed biter head in his hand.

“What's the matter, lil' brotha? She no good enough for you?” Merle howled and took a hold of the biter's jaw, mimicking it's talk. “Don't wanna blow from the missus?”

Daryl stared at the head and at his brother, trying to make his brains and heart understand that nothing was wrong and that he didn't have to defend his life after all. The others had gathered around too, awakened by Daryl's panicked shouts.

“He's high again.” Daryl heard someone murmur as a sign of no actual threat.

Daryl stared at his brother, who was now half an inch from french kissing the head and clearly imagining a body to go with it. Yes, Merle was high. Fear changed quickly into rage. 

The branch dropped from Daryl's hand and barely even touched the ground before Daryl had already toppled his brother. Merle was still laughing out loud, but he was fighting back none the less. They got to exchange few good licks before they were torn apart by the other men in the group.

That seemed to piss Merle off far worse than his brother actually hitting him. He started to fight off Walsh and Jim, who quickly decided to take him down to the ground. Daryl didn't even see who was holding him, as he automatically started to mimic his brother and turned his hits against the outside threat.

The world spin few times as Daryl was thrown to the nearby bushes. He returned like a pissed off opossum, his teeth flaring and ready to fight to the death. Douglas and the Grandpa kept stepping in front of him and pushing him back to prevent him from going between Walsh and Merle. The whole camp was shouting now, the women shrieking about keeping quiet before the biters found them.

Daryl couldn't have cared less about the fucking biters. All he saw was Walsh beating up the now disorientated and bleeding Merle and his vision narrowed. Douglas got an elbow to his face and the next second Daryl was pulling Walsh away from Merle with his arm around the man's neck, shouting at him to leave his brother alone.

A nasty punch into the stomach send the air flying out of Daryl. He bent over and Walsh shoved him away. Merle was staggering to get to his feet, clearly to continue fighting, but Walsh decided to stop it all. He pulled out his gun.

“That's it!” he shouted and pointed the gun at crouched Merle. Daryl stared at the situation lying on his back on the ground and waiting for the air to come back. “You two are finished! I want both of you out of this camp!” The rest of the group glanced at Walsh, but no one opened their mouths to protest. “Get the fuck off!”

Merle sneered at the words, spit out blood and straightened himself. His nose was bleeding, but he seemed to be fine otherwise. He held out his hand to Daryl, who took it and got up. There was an inquiring silence.

“Yeah? Well, fuck you”, Merle replied slowly.

“Fuck off!” Walsh shouted and kept his gun pointed at Merle's head.

“Come on”, Daryl muttered and took a hold of Merle's arm, pulling him away from the others. Merle wasn't thinking clearly anyway and might be stupid enough to start arguing against a gun. Luckily when Daryl took his crossbow and strode off to the woods, Merle followed.

There was a long and deep silence. It was nearly morning anyway, so Daryl decided to skip the search for a sleeping spot and go straight for the breakfast. It wasn't very easy with stoned off Merle rampaging through the woods like a fucking rhino.

“Was a good joke still, huh?”

Daryl stopped immediately and stared at the trees along the barrel of his crossbow. For a second he thought about the safety of the camp, the warmth and dryness of the tent and the women cooking the food they had hunted. Daryl turned swiftly around and hit Merle in the face with the bow stock.

Merle took two staggering steps backwards, hand on his bloody nose. “No?” he asked surprised. Daryl just turned back to the path. “Jesus, who rubbed sand into your cunt?” Merle mumbled behind him.

They walked on for another half an hour, but when Merle tripped again and scared off the rabbit they had been tracking, Daryl stopped. He turned to his brother and waited until the bigger man realized they had stopped while almost bumping into Daryl.

“Just... sit down and wait here, okay?” Daryl said with a sigh. He had stopped by a small creek, which would suit their needs for time being. “I'll go get us something to eat and come back.”

Merle slumped to the ground and leaned against a tree trunk. Daryl watched him take a better position.

“And don't fall asleep. The geeks will come and eat your ass, if you do.” Daryl pushed the crossbow to his back and crouched down. He took few branches and leaves and shoved them to Merle's hands. “Build a fire so it'll be ready when I come back, okay?” He glanced at Merle's face, but there wasn't really anyone there. “Merle!” A hard slap on the man's face brought him back though. “I'm going to hunt food. Build me a fire”, Daryl articulated as clearly as possible.

“Yea, yea... Get goin'”, Merle grunted and took the branches from Daryl.

Daryl stood up, but couldn't stop watching his brother. He was really out of it, had probably taken his dose just before he woke Daryl up. “You sure you're okay?” Daryl asked and Merle lifted his face up.

“Yeah. I'll watch the camp. Go hunt.”

“You got your gun?” Daryl asked, seeing the rifle on the ground just behind the man.

Merle patted his chest, like he had put the rifle into a wrong pocket. He glanced around. “Yea, I got it, I got it...” he mumbled and raked the ground with his hands.

Daryl sighed and crouched back down. He couldn't go and leave his brother like this. Merle would pass out and even if he didn't, Daryl couldn't be sure he could defend himself well enough. He started to clear the ground and gather wood for the fire. Merle kept staring at him with droopy eyes.

“You're not going?”

“You hungry?” Daryl asked back and glanced at Merle again. His brother smiled widely.

“Nah, I'm fine. I'm so fucking _fine_ right now.”

“You gotta stop doing that shit. It'll get you killed”, Daryl mumbled and scraped the flint with his knife. The sparks dropped into the dry leaves which caught fire after few slow blows.

“I know, I know...” Merle mumbled. He started to stand up but ended up falling to his face before he got his ass off the ground. That didn't stop Merle however; he started snickering and crawled towards Daryl. “C'mon, lil' brother, don't be mad at meee...” the man laughed and kept crawling until he got his head into Daryl's lap. Once there he wrapped his arms around Daryl's waist. “We'll be fine here on our own. We'll hunt deer and shit and I'll take care of you. We don't need no one.”

Daryl grit his teeth and tossed another branch on to the fire. He wrestled the crossbow off his back and laid it next to him on the ground. “How you gonna take care of me, if you're high all the god damn time, huh?”

“I know! I was bad!” Merle mumbled into Daryl's crotch and his warm breath made Daryl's stomach tighten. “I've been so bad... But I'll stop. I'll stop an' be good, if that's what ya want.”

“I don't give a fuck if you snort horse shit up your ass, but I need you sharp!” Daryl exclaimed. “I need someone I can trust to--”

“Yea, yea, I got it”, Merle muttered and lifted his hand to Daryl's face probably to get him to shut up, but just ended up pushing half of his fingers in Daryl's mouth. “Relax. There's no biters here”, Merle said with chipper tone. “Jus' you an' ol' Merle and evrything's fine.” The hand lowered to Daryl's chest and Merle shoved him to the ground. It took quite a while for Merle to sit up high enough to peer down on Daryl. “Relax. You're so fucking uptight all the fucking time that you're gonna start popping veins soon.” Merle spread his arms, but quickly put them down again when his balance wavered. “Ain't no biters here. Ain't even squirrels here. Ok?”

Daryl rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. Merle's hand moved to rub Daryl's groin and Daryl immediately grabbed his brother's wrist. “Don't.”

“Ain't nobody here”, Merle assured with hushed voice and kept opening Daryl's zipper. “Let's just blow off some of that steam, yeah?”

“No.”

“Yes”, Merle insisted and slid his hand inside Daryl's pants and underwear. “You're gonna let me take care of you.” The man moved closer to Daryl so they were lying on the ground side by side. Merle's hand started pumping Daryl slowly and the younger brother let out a quiet moan. “I know you like it”, Merle mused with a wide grin. “I know you do.”

Daryl was about to protest about Merle's choice of place and time, but just then a calloused thumb wiped across the tip of his cock and all he could do was to moan and buckle his hips up.

“You want more?” Merle asked with a chuckle and pulled his hand away. Daryl tried to stop him from yanking down his pants, but even he himself knew he didn't really mean it. It was just hard-wired in him to be wary of their surroundings. “It's okay”, Merle said immediately in calming tone. “We'll hear them coming from miles away.” He returned to the jerking and Daryl let his head drop to the ground.

Merle's hand quickened it's pace and Daryl's abs grew tighter and tighter until he was almost doubled over, staring at Merle's hand.

“You're so fucking hot right now”, Merle murmured and fumbled with his own fly. Once he got his cock out, he was already fully hard. Daryl glanced at his brothers face and took his cock in his hand without a hesitation. He was grateful for the knowledge that even if they did shit like this, neither of them would ever talk about it later. Not at least until the next time.

Merle leaned over him and they kissed. If from nothing else, from that alone you could have told Merle was high. He never kissed when he was sober and it seemed to be the only thing he got embarrassed about. The jerking, the fucking, even a blowjob every now and then; that was all fine, but kissing? Hell no, that's for faggots! But Daryl kept his mouth shut about that too. He didn't give a shit either way. If you did one of those things, to him it was all the same to do them all. Daryl wrapped his hand in Merle's neck and enjoyed the kiss while it lasted.

It didn't go further than that. Merle came before Daryl, clenching his jaws and making this bearlike low growl to keep him from shouting out loud. Daryl let go of him and let Merle catch his breath before bucking up his hips again. With a clearly lazier grip Merle continued the jerking, watching and obviously enjoying seeing all the stupid faces Daryl made.

“Come on, lil' brother”, Merle coaxed and quickened his pace again. His other hand moved under Daryl and his fingers rubbed against his hole.

Daryl's mouth opened in silent shout as a finger entered him. He kept clawing the ground underneath them and biting his tongue not to make a sound. When the orgasm hit him, it was like a well earned slap in the face, knocking everything irrelevant right out of his mind. Daryl was left staring at the canopy above them and blue sky beyond that. Merle let out a chuckle as he laid down next to Daryl and pulled his brother tightly against him.

“You know what we should do?”

Daryl shrugged against Merle's chest and started to pull his pants back up. “Stop this shit?”

“Hell no!” Merle laughed and shoved his head gently with his hand. “We should make us some moonshine.”

Daryl snorted. “Yeah, I bet Walsh would love that.”

“Fuck Walsh”, Merle grunted with disgust. “I ain't going back to his shitty camp even when he comes begging us.”

“You think he will?” Daryl asked and tried his best not to sound hopeful. He hated the people as much as Merle did, but he saw the good things too. It was a hell of a lot safer to be with a group these days.

“Sure he will! There ain't anyone else to get him food like we do.”

Daryl let out a quiet sigh. Merle was right. The group needed them. Daryl would hunt down a deer or two and they would be welcomed back in the evening. Hell, life wasn't easy on anyone, all they had to do was get along with Merle. Ain't nothing difficult in that!


End file.
